


Pianoforte

by TheNeptuneViolin



Category: Throne of Glass Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-23
Updated: 2017-10-23
Packaged: 2019-01-22 01:51:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12470828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheNeptuneViolin/pseuds/TheNeptuneViolin
Summary: Aelin is taking a moment to herself after the final battle after ToG6/7 and she just wants to play piano again.





	Pianoforte

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted [here](https://torattlethestars.tumblr.com/post/161600619829/pianoforte).  
> Feel free to tell me what you think!

Aelin had finally found herself a pianoforte. Now that everything was  _well, over_ , she supposed she wanted to play. She’d done everything she could for her people and wanted a little time for herself, even if she’d had long enough alone in that rutting coffin. But this was different. She wanted to be here, alone for a while. 

She didn’t tell anyone where she was going, or when she’d be back, because Aelin wanted a little time alone - to find herself again. Because in the war and the turmoil she was afraid she couldn’t find the essence that made her Aelin anymore. 

As she sat down at the stool, of apparently the only rutting piano in this city, she thought about the last time she played. It was when she started teaching Rowan - and that felt like a lifetime ago. And Aelin had supposed it might have been; she’d done so much since then. 

Slender fingers pushed open the lid to reveal the keys of ivory and the dark keys in between. Aelin sighed. It had been so long; she wasn’t sure she still could. Those fingers that used to make such beautiful music had done so many horrible things to too many people - too many innocents. And too much sacrifice, both from her and for her. 

Though she supposed that both ends of that spectrum were because of Arobynn. Forcing her to learn was possibly the best thing Arobynn did for her.

She let her fingers graze the keys. She didn’t want to know if they’d forgotten. Forgotten to make room for everything else she’d done with them. So she didn’t press down, didn’t make a single note for a short while. 

And then she plucked up the courage. 

An F major chord filled the room; the F holding in the A and C together in their happy unison, where the three distinct notes blended into one. And… and it felt nice. But F minor felt better once she’d shifted her middle finger down half a step to the A flat. 

Minor felt better right now. Too many people had died because of her - or died for her. She could feel the tears coming for them, so she let them come.

She lead the tears into a minor chord progression, a chord for everyone she’d lost. She started with one for her parents, one for Lady Marion, one for Sam and one for Nehemia; and she kept counting on.

So many chords, so many people whose names Aelin knew and those she wished she did. But she didn’t. So she gave them each a chord. And then. She was done. Everyone she could remember, at least. So she added a few more chords for everyone she’d forgotten. Not as permanent as the scars that once told her story on her back, but for now it would do.

Those fingers of hers still remembered how to caress the keys so well. Maybe she wasn’t as broken as she thought.

Aelin thought of one of her favourite symphonies, one she had watched from the ceiling in Rifthold so many times. The one she saw every year in the Royal Theatre and the reason why she’d chosen to learn pianoforte.

And her fingers found the melody from the back of her mind. And it was still ever so beautiful, and the third movement still ever so haunting.

And her fingers found another melody. A piece Celaena had written for Dorian, that Aelin had forgotten about. Aelin thought about the music then. This melody still meant so much to her, even now. Even now, when she thought she had finally put that old persona to rest, and no longer felt quite the same about her old friend as she did then.  

Her fingers reminded her mind what it felt like to be alive, to love and to hurt. They danced through so much of what Celaena knew, and a little of what she didn’t.

Switching her fingers to another of Celaena’s favourites, Aelin came to the realisation that maybe, just maybe, she would never be completely rid of Celaena. That she was Celaena for too long to just throw her away. Because Celaena looked after Aelin for too long. Celaena was how Aelin survived. No matter where Aelin went now, or who she became; one piece out of many, Celaena was part of her.

And maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing.

Because she was Aelin Ashryver Galathynius and she would not be afraid.


End file.
